


A Few, Maybe a Handful

by mousapelli



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Established Relationship, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-26 09:29:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mousapelli/pseuds/mousapelli
Summary: Yuri didn't tell Otabek to be on SNS more so he could torment Yuri with the cuteness of his nieces and nephews, geez.





	A Few, Maybe a Handful

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SASO 2017, Clue bonus round. Prompt was "Otabek at the park with his toddler niece."
> 
> uh this ended up with some surprise ABO dynamics in their conversation. It just...happened.

Yuri wakes up to a series of disgusting adorable SNS posts of Otabek teaching his toddler niece to ice skate, and sometimes he regrets badgering Otabek to post more just a whole fucking lot.

[y were u even up so early] he texts in disgust, burrowing deeper into his blankets and already dreading his morning run after a glance at the frost on his window. Otabek doesn't answer, probably either still on the ice or in transit, and Yuri flips apps back to the skating pictures.

Otabek's niece is just a little too cute even for Yuri's blackened heart to completely deny. She's wrapped up tight in a pink snowsuit with bear ears on the hood, brown curls sticking out every which way from around her face, cheeks pink from the exertion of pushing the plastic crate across the ice in front of her. Otabek is hovering over her with a look of mild concern in the first two pictures but then loosens up, grinning in the next one, laughing openly in the last one with another man who is, Yuri assumes, his brother, while his niece is down on her butt on the ice with a thundercloud pout.

 _This is what Otabek would look like with kids_ , Yuri's brain announces, and Yuri's cheeks go just as pink as the little girl's.

"What the heck," Yuri snarls at himself. Where had that come from? They were too young to think about that crap and busy with high pressure careers and also _in separate fucking countries_. Now way too awake, Yuri threw himself out of bed to just get the run out of the way, tying up his hair in a messy bun because there was no point in a shower before it no matter how good the hot water would feel.

But it must still be eating around the corners of his brain, because when they Skype later in the day, late afternoon Yuri's time while Otabek makes himself dinner, Yuri blurts out, "Your niece is cute."

"Of course she is," Otabek says, barely looking up from the onions he's chopping. "Babies are always cute in my family. And there are always lots of babies. We're good at it."

"Uuuugh," Yuri grumbles under his breath, and that does make Otabek look up, eyebrow raised. "Nothing. It's dumb. You were cute with a kid, that's all."

"Really." Otabek says it like it's not a question, and Yuri hates when he does that, makes it obvious that Yuri's given something away he hadn't meant to. "Should I leave it alone?"

"No, it's," Yuri looks away, at the ceiling, at Potcha, at the dent in the corner of his laptop. "Not a thing. Just. Do you think about it? Having a family."

"It's hard not to think about it," Otabek says dryly. "When every aunt and sister and cousin asks during every dinner and phone call and video chat when I'm going to get started already. _You're already twenty, zhanym. Your mother had three at your age._ "

Yuri's cheeks burn. "Yeah, but do you think about it? Beka, you're burning the garlic."

"Don't backseat chef," Otabek scolds. He turns the heat off his stove and sits the knife down, putting his hands flat on the counter to show Yuri he's paying attention. "I'm not in a hurry. I don't want three at my age. But yes, I think about it."

"Do you want like…" Yuri fiddles with his comforter, eyes drifting back to Otabek's face before falling away again. "A big family? Like a million?"

"That's how we do it here," Otabek says, like he can't help that sarcastic deflection. Then he adds, "A million seems a bit much. But, you know. A few. Maybe a handful."

Yuri's mouth twitches because that's how Otabek describes the amount of M&Ms he wants from Yuri's package, and what he means is like, half the bag. "Like a hockey team?"

"Chickens hatch in the spring," Otabek murmurs, which means don't get too far ahead of yourself with that kind of wishful thinking. "Anyway, not to worry. You charmed them enough during your last visit that they aren't too grumpy about waiting a bit longer. Grandmother hasn't offered to call up the matchmaker in at least two weeks."

"Pfah," Yuri snorts, even though his neck flushes warm at the idea that Otabek's family likes him. He'd been wretched with nerves about it before coming to Almaty last summer, and by the end of his long trip there had been wretched with leaving.

"The look on your face," Otabek chuckles as he turns the oven on again. "You make such a fuss about not acting like a stereotypical alpha and then you call me up to ask me if I want to pop you out a hockey team. Good thing I'm going to retire first, hmm?"

"Shut the fuck _up_ ," Yuri screeches, horrified and delighted, but he gives a refresh to the tab he always has open in his browser with the times and current prices of a flight from St. Petersburg to Almaty.


End file.
